Arcadia
by Paridhi Adhikari
Summary: The Wizarding world has not faced two wars. Regardless, the contemporary society is still divided by bitter factions, rigid class divisions and ambitious socialites. Welcome to a world of intense corporate politics, where the debonair heir to an empire worth billions, might just meet his match in his feisty childhood companion, a woman just as powerful. DM/PP; BZ/DG; TN/TD


**Arcadia**

_The Wizarding world has not faced two wars. Regardless, the contemporary society is still divided by bitter factions, rigid class divisions and ambitious socialites. Welcome to a world of intense corporate politics, where the debonair heir to an empire worth billions, might just meet his match in his feisty childhood companion, a woman just as powerful. _

Disclaimer: This is a fictional story based on characters, settings and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

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Chapter I: Winners And Losers

It was a grey, lightly raining morning in early August when the Wizengamot verdict was declared in Antonin Dolohov's favour. Whitehall, London was abuzz with the shocking news as it spread like rapid fire through the many tiers of the British Ministry of Magic.

The acquittal of a notoriously corrupt businessman with ties to the underworld was highly unexpected, considering that the Auror department had all the evidence against Dolohov, but the defence team had been incredible really, even Hermione Granger, the chief Prosecutor in charge admitted with bitter reluctance. Losing was just not in her cups of tea, never had and never would, but of course even she had to concede defeat to her most formidable opponent – a conniving woman, who to be fair had a remarkable record to her name and for all the right reasons, but through the wrong means.

It was undeniable that the defence barrister possessed a natural brilliance for rhetoric. There was just something about the way she ruthlessly cross-examined the witnesses for the prosecution, the conviction with which she destabilized their case that forced the previously unfavourable jury to question the evidence. Eventually, after several days of intense deliberation the jury concluded that there were evident ambiguities in the case and Dolohov could not be proven guilty beyond any doubt – hence leading to the disappointing acquittal.

The decision had completely disrupted the Ministry and the Prosecution team had left the courtroom in silence, with their heads bowed and fending off reporters with icy glares and cold shoulders. Hermione tried to seem poised and composed in her defeat but undoubtedly she was shaken. This was her third loss in the two years she had been practicing, the third loss in her otherwise spotless career, and the third defeat against the same adversary.

Unresponsive to the people around her, she briskly returned to her office and it wasn't until much later that afternoon that she finally let the hot tears of frustration flow. She felt like a fool, she had been trusted by Percy Weasley, the brilliant, young Director of Public Prosecutions to see this case through, to earn justice for the victims' families, but she had failed him. Hermione had failed them all. She wasn't a part of this profession for wealth or fame. She was a woman of integrity, and she would fight for justice at all costs.

Angrily, she ripped the case file to shreds, the same case file, she had spent many sleepless nights preparing. By tomorrow, everyone would know about her letdown, in fact, the famous editor Barnabas Cuffe had been present at the high profile trial and the evening issue of the Daily Prophet was bound to be spectacular.

Sighing, she leaned back into her comfortable chair and willed herself for strength. She couldn't help but think of her rival. Would she be off gloating about her victory? Would she be celebrating her win at Hermione's expense? Would she be laughing about her, like everyone else was?

Brushing away the angry tears, Hermione swivelled towards a large stack of files, all impending cases. She would win against _her_ no matter what.

"Nandini, get me the Fletcher file right now."

* * *

Amid all the disbelief and confusion, the young barrister who had quite brilliantly won, what most had thought was a lost case, was completely composed and seemed immune to the praise and congratulations she received from the moment the verdict was released. In fact, she simply did not dwell upon her victory. She did not even celebrate the hard fought win, rather choosing to return to her uptown London office and focus on the next high profile case that was lined at her desk. To her doting family, she was focused and driven. To inexperienced eyes, she was unmoved by her success. To strangers, she was modest. But, Pansy Parkinson was anything but a merely humble woman.

Only she knew how much she relished her success. Every victory in the courtroom was a reinforcement of her power but ever the proper lady of aristocracy, seeming vain was crass and so Pansy accepted praise with only a gracious smile. Nevertheless, inside she celebrated that she was once again triumphant in her own skill and efficiency.

Barely twenty-three, Pansy was one of the most successful criminal barristers in the Wizarding world. After graduating from Hogwarts with top class N.E.W.T.S results, she received honours from the Wizengamot bar exam in criminal law and within six months she had opened her own law firm. In the two years that Pansy had been practicing, she had never lost a case that had gone to trial. It was an unrivalled record, and with her success, Pansy's popularity and political prowess rose to new heights. She quickly became a highly influential figure in political circles for her own accomplishments rather than the fame of her parents.

She had never been at odds with what she desired most in life. Indeed, she was ambitious and driven, but more than success, Pansy craved power. And she was powerful – in more ways than one, particularly considering that she was the sole heiress of the Parkinson fortune. It was a title, she totally completely cherished since understanding the importance and standing of her family in their society. The Parkinson family was one of the oldest pureblood families which immediately established them as social elites. However, their power was truly derived from their immense wealth, owning a business empire that had been built upon by many generations through their ruthless business dealings. Pansy herself, had viciously acquired a few successful companies for their conglomerate, before deciding that the thrill of conquering the market was outdone easily by the challenge of the criminal justice system - of winning the toughest cases against the worthiest opponents.

All in all, Pansy was hailed as one of the most desirable women in Europe. She was beautiful and wealthy, cultured and powerful. She was everything, an elitist family would want in a wife and a daughter-in-law but despite this, even at twenty-three; Pansy Parkinson was a single woman. Of course this was not due to a lack of interest in her. Men were constantly throwing themselves at her feet, but Pansy just wasn't able to find anyone she genuinely liked. The men who had attempted to court her had sent her official marriage proposals as was proper and had all pleased her selective parents, but Pansy was grossly unimpressed. Nobody was of an equal standing, not in wealth, not in power, not in appearance nor in brilliance. Hardly anyone was as witty as her. If one was smart, then he was unattractive, while if the other was good-looking, he was easily a complete bore, and both cases were in Pansy's eyes, unacceptable.

Millicent, Tracey and even Daphne thought she was being slightly unreasonable, too selective because it was not just difficult to find her perfect man, it was almost impossible. Of course, the single exception was the one man, she would never have. The only man to satisfy all her criteria was her best friend and occasionally her enemy, Draco Malfoy. But he was certainly out of the question in her list of prospective suitors; after all he was her closest friend and a notorious womanizer.

Indubitably, the Malfoy heir was an attractive man. Intelligent, powerful, wealthy and personable, but Draco was just not prepared for a committed monogamous relationship just yet. He was currently pursuing Astoria Greengrass, a beautiful young socialite and Daphne's younger sister. But even then, Draco only wanted one night with her. It was just the way he worked. He was easily bored, and needed a new playmate more often than not.

Anyhow, Pansy knew him better than he knew himself and she knew that he didn't have the time, or the perseverance to be in a serious relationship. Much like her, Draco was ambitious and spent a great amount of time in his office. They were two of a kind, manipulative, impatient and stubborn. In fact, Draco and Pansy shared many similarities. The same likes and dislikes, the same allies and enemies, the same opinions and attitudes – in fact, they were entirely too similar. At the same time, they were wholly different. She was fiery while he was as cold as ice. She was reticent, he was uninhibited. She was protective while he was possessive.

Which was exactly why, they were currently not speaking. Three nights ago, when she had had Draco over for their usual Friday night dinner at the Parkinson Mansion, they had gotten into a disagreement after Pansy had let slip that she was meeting their friend and Tracey's second cousin, Adrian Pucey for dinner the following night. Draco abandoned dinner in a fit of rage and the next morning, she heard from Tracey that Adrian was coincidentally admitted at St Mungo's late last night after being hit by a mysterious hex.

And since then, Pansy had refused to speak to Draco. What right did he have to go around hexing people who showed some sort of romantic interest in her? He was infuriating and his actions were immature. In fact, she was so annoyed at him that she had returned the congratulatory bouquet that he had sent her this morning. But he was insistent. For every bouquet she returned, Draco sent her an additional three. Outraged, Pansy tried to throw them out, vanish them, but with her every attempt, the bunches only multiplied by the dozen. Odder still, only she was able to touch the flowers, when others even tried to levitate them, they were hit with hexes. Cursing her luck, Pansy resigned herself to acceptance once she realised that her attempts were futile, for Draco had placed strong charms to counter her, in anticipation of her rejection. She resorted to shrinking at least half of them to fit in her office and the foyer.

Consequently, her offices currently hosted three hundred and seventeen bouquets of her favourite Casablanca lilies. Normally, she would have appreciated the gesture, but Pansy was in no mood to tolerate Draco's antics. She had meetings in the afternoon, and was reviewing the documentation for Azkaban officials for bail orders for the notorious assassin Bartemius Crouch Jnr when there was a soft knock on her door, and Pansy's secretary entered her office, carrying a stack of files and papers in her arms.

"Miss Parkinson. Mr Malfoy's secretary has returned the paperwork."

Beautiful Demelza Bobbin was in her second year of completing her law program and was topping it, like Pansy had only two and a half years ago. For Demelza, Pansy was everything she wanted to be – smart, confident, fearless and successful; the best at everything. Even when they had been at Hogwarts, she had seen Pansy as the ultimate role model. All the younger girls had looked up to Pansy for she was a style icon; she was beautiful and wealthy, but Demelza was inevitably drawn by her power. Pansy was crafty; she had mastered the art of manipulation very early and had the rare ability to control people with a simple smile and a few clever words.

"Good. Leave them on my desk." Pansy said without looking up from her paperwork.

"But there's a slight problem." Demelza said sheepishly. She glanced at the file on top of the pile she was carrying and dreaded Pansy's reaction. She hated disappointing her, and she knew for certain that Pansy was going to be displeased by the news she had for her.

"Problem?" Pansy looked up to see her secretary looking slightly nervous as she approached her desk.

Demelza looked at Pansy in apprehension, anticipating her formidable wrath. "The papers aren't signed."

"Excuse me?" Pansy asked incredulously, her temper flaring instantly.

"Mr Malfoy has said he will only sign the papers if you bring them to him." Demelza clarified, watching her warily as Pansy snapped her file shut and stared out the window, trying to keep her patience.

"He would say that, wouldn't he?" Pansy sighed wryly. "Well, you best cancel all my appointments for this afternoon then." She was actually keen on seeing him, just to give him a piece of her mind. After the morning's flower fiasco, she was about ready to throttle him with her bare hands.

"Actually, Mr Malfoy has asked you to meet him at Malfoy Manor, on Sunday at twelve." Demelza informed her, glancing at Pansy's diary for any possible date and/or appointment conflict at the scheduled time.

"Bastard," she swore under her breath, "Is there no way to avoid this?" She was questioning herself, but Demelza answered her anyway.

"Well, Hestia flooed, you were right. Granger's secretary, Nandini Johar just retrieved the Fletcher case." Demelza's source at the Ministry of Magic's Public Prosecutions department was solid. Hestia Carrow, a fellow ex-Slytherin was Demelza's friend and a paralegal at the Prosecutions department. She had proved herself reliable, having supplied valuable classified information in the past.

There was no reason to start doubting her now, which of course meant that Pansy had to bow before her pride.

Groaning, Pansy closed her eyes and rubbed her temple. "Granger's getting predictable. I suppose I'll _have _to go now."

* * *

Despite the bleak weather, it was a fantastic morning at the illustrious Malfoy Corporation. There had been good news incoming all morning. First of all, their tender for the acquisition of an incredibly profitable Swiss Financials company was confirmed, which was followed by news from their Quidditch Supplies branch that their newest collection of broomsticks had stormed the market, raking in an initial profit of two billion galleons. Further, a wealthy sheikh in Dubai, the owner of an impressive oil company had invested an enormous amount of money in the Malfoy's gold business, proposing for a merger of the two companies, which would mean that the Malfoy's would have another profitable commodity in its portfolio. As a result of these consequent business successes, the already high prices of the Malfoy shares had sky-rocketed by noon.

And it was all thanks to the young heir to the entire Malfoy Empire, none other than the dashing, debonair Draco Malfoy. He had always been astute but his charm and confidence saw him easily dealing with the shrewdest of foreign delegates with astounding success. His acuity of vision was certainly remarkable. Only in his first week as the CEO, he had secured deals in European markets for further expansion of his company, and had made significant acquisitions of influential Asian export industries and trade agreements, which would bring the company more than doubled profit. Moreover, he had commenced expansion of his prosperous hotel and casino chains from Europe into South America, a prospect that was met with immense enthusiasm particularly from Cuban business interests. The aggrandizement of the Malfoy Empire was surpassing all expectations, much to Draco's father's delight.

The Malfoy conglomerate had dominated not only the European markets, but also the Asian stock exchange for the last few months because of Draco's increased involvement in the family business and ever since he had diligently assumed his role of CEO, the company had been the talk of the town. On this particularly auspicious morning, Draco had just concluded an intense conference with his exclusive Swedish clients when his secretary informed him that the verdict on the Dolohov case was out.

He hadn't been surprised to hear that his Pansy had won. She wouldn't be Pansy if she didn't. Draco sent his florist an owl to have Pansy's favourite flowers sent to her office and he wasn't surprised when the bouquet was swiftly returned. Grinning he sent them back with interest. Charming the bouquet to multiply dramatically if anyone tried to tamper with them, which he knew Pansy would try, Draco loved teasing her. She was a stubborn girl after all, but then again he was no less. They could play this endless tug-of-war forever without tiring. They had been at it all their lives and he knew that she enjoyed it as much as he did.

Draco gazed at the photo frame on his desk. It was his favourite photo graph of the two of them. A rather candid moment captured from their last holiday together in Paris. His arm was wrapped around her, watching her lovingly as she laughed. Her hair blowing in the wind, and cheeks flushed from the cold, Pansy had been breathtaking in that moment, and Draco had been mesmerised then and he still was.

Often, people (foreign delegates) who didn't know any better mistook the photo as being of him and his wife. Sometimes, Draco didn't correct them. He didn't know why, but it felt strangely right, they looked good together. It was a fact that had been reinforced since they were little, their families and friends had always said that Draco and Pansy made an attractive couple.

Except that they weren't actually a couple. They were best friends, had been for as long as he could remember. Now it wasn't suitable for a Malfoy to actually express such a sentiment, but he had felt it for a while now – Pansy was dear to him.

She was his fearless Pansy, the mastermind behind his Quidditch tactics, the Queen of Slytherin politics; she was brilliant that much was undeniable. They had grown up together and he knew her better than anyone else. Draco knew her inside and out and if anyone knew how to play dirty, it was Pansy. She was as cunning a strategist as he was a brilliant tactician and together they had been unstoppable from their childhood days, whether it was manipulating their parents, or outwitting everyone at Hogwarts. He hated it when they got into arguments and Pansy childishly refused to speak to him. It didn't happen much, but when it did, it was beyond frustrating. Pansy was not like other woman, and was not easily mollified with a few sweet words, roses and chocolates. Buying her forgiveness was not an option.

He had more than enough tension to deal with at the moment, in particular his parents. The pressure to get married had increased significantly in the past few weeks. His mother had been harping on about it for years, and had gone to great lengths to introduce him to numerous eligible, desirable pureblood bachelorettes of aristocratic standing, none of whom appealed to Draco, beyond their apparent willingness to seduce him.

But recently, ever since his father had received news that Draco's friend Vincent Crabbe's (whose father was also a business associate of the Malfoys), wife Millicent had given birth to a healthy heiress, Lucius Malfoy had become hell-bent on getting his own son married as soon as possible. He had pulled Draco aside to his personal study after dinner one night and presented the ultimatum – within the next two months, Draco would select a bride or as his father, he would make an arrangement with a family of his choice and Draco would be have to wed the girl or risk being disowned.

Draco had been outraged. He threw multiple tantrums, brooded, broke things and ultimately tried negotiating with his father, but to no avail. His father was resolute in his decision. He also expressed how disappointed he was in his son for not having fulfilled his duty as the Malfoy heir. Though it was preposterous, Draco also knew that his parents had given him plenty of time to settle down, but he had been occupied with business and had taken to sleeping around to satisfy his male urges. He knew his parents weren't just considered about an heir to their empire, but rather to see him happy with a woman he loved, they wanted his life to be fulfilled just as theirs was.

Growing up, Draco had witnessed the relationship his parents shared and despite the world believing that the Malfoys were cold, heartless and selfish, behind closed doors they were really like any other family. His father, who was known to be a ruthless businessman, domineering and calculating at best was a completely different man at home. Though quite demanding as a husband and a father, Lucius Malfoy was openly affectionate towards his wife and son, always spoiling them and prioritising his family before all else.

Similarly Draco's mother, Narcissa who appeared to be sly, manipulative, snooty and undeniably cold was an equally loving wife who adored her husband to no end, and more so doted upon her son, cherished him more than anything. Only the people closest to the Malfoys had seen their more domestic, affectionate side, and those who had, would not be able to refute that the Malfoys dearly loved each other.

As a child, Draco saw his father buy roses for his mother on every Tuesday evening without fail, a tradition that had continued all through the years. He had seen his mother wait sleepless nights for his father to return from foreign trips, and until he did she hardly ate, her radiant smile was lost and her temperament glum and disheartened.

It had taken him a while to understand that what his parents felt for each other was indeed the deepest affection, and Draco respected this immensely, but he doubted that he would ever find a woman who would truly love him for who he was, and not just for his wealth and fame. He wasn't entirely too sure that he could love someone, beyond their promiscuous capabilities either.

Draco also knew that profit was the bottom-line; he was after all a brilliant businessman and so he carefully deliberated between the wealthiest pureblood ladies of high standing and powerful families. He came up with a mere handful of names, of which Astoria Greengrass had seemed like a fine choice.

She was an intelligent young woman belonging to the pureblood upper crust, hailing from a typically wealthy family. Astoria was also quite beautiful. She was tall and thin, with long dark hair and sharp features. Draco had been pursuing her for a few weeks now with all the intention of bedding her, and then he would possibly consider whether she was marriage material. Astoria was a bit of a challenge though; she didn't succumb to his charm like other women. It made things more interesting and Draco definitely found that attractive. She quite reminded him of Pansy actually. Coincidentally, she quite resembled Pansy as well – as did the numerous women that came before her, as Blaise keenly pointed out.

"That's ridiculous. I am not shagging Pansy lookalikes in an effort to replace her. You're insane." Draco shook his head in disbelief. Sometimes Blaise was too observant for his own good.

"You keep telling yourself that," Blaise grinned. "I don't see what your problem is. Instead of sleeping with imitations, why don't you go for the real thing while you still have the chance."

Draco rolled his eyes, "We aren't interested in each other like that and plus Pansy doesn't want to get married yet. We're just friends."

"Exactly, and what's better than marrying a friend. You already know each other and think about it, Pansy's everything you'd want in a wife. Smart, rich and don't forget beautiful." Blaise reasoned. "Admittedly, Pansy is more difficult than other woman, but then again, she's also worth the challenge. We always thought that you two were going to end up together. Think about it."

That conversation had occurred a week ago, and he was still thinking about it. And when he thought about it, he could only picture Pansy. Though he had no romantic interest in her, she was the only person he could imagine in his future. She knew him better than anyone else. She knew when to push and when to retreat, when to give him comfort and when to give him space. They had the same beliefs, the same ideas and they did make an attractive couple. The fact that their parents were close friends and business associates was also favourable.

It all came down to persuading Pansy of course, and so when he returned her papers unsigned and with the message to meet him, he did it with every intention to woo her. It would be difficult, but not impossible.

He'd be damned if his parents had to arrange a marriage for him. It would be a totally humiliating affair, and so Draco resolved to making Pansy agree to the wedding as soon as possible.

But before that, he had some important formalities to take care of.

"Flora, cancel all my meetings for this afternoon. I will be leaving for Zurich immediately."

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